The sound of my boots hitting the hardwood floor echoed through the hallway. I figured I should play it off as if the night with Jane went good. Truth is, it went terrible. Everybody has these expectations that I can get with any girl I want. For the most part it’s true, but Jane made me feel like I had no heart. The face she gave when I tried pressuring her into sex made me want to kill myself. I walked into the room, complaining about the goddam weather outside. As I undressed, I asked Holden if he’d written my composition. When he said yes, I felt relieved. Then I got sore as hell. “For Chrissake, Holden. This is about a goddam baseball glove.” “So what?” He replied sourly. “Wuddaya mean so what? I told you it had to be about a goddam room or a house or something.” “No wonder you’re flunking the hell out of here, you don’t do one damn thing the way you’re supposed to.” “Alright, give it back to me then,” he replied, ripping the goddam thing out of my hand. …show more content…
“What the hellja do that for?” I said. I got no reply. I decided to start clipping my nails. Holden, laying on his bed, started questioning me about Jane. Asking me if I made her late and if I took her to New York. I said “Ya crazy? How the hell could we go to New York if she was only signed out for nine-thirty?” Then he started asking me if she still kept her kings in the back row. Like hell I was gonna talk about checkers on our date. I started to realize him getting sore as hell, so I started fooling around, putting one of those playful socks on his shoulder. He was still my friend after all. He asked me what we did if we didn’t go to New York. When I told him we stayed in Ed Banky’s car, he started getting all serious on me. So I went to start brushing my teeth. “Did you give her the time in Ed Banky’s car?” He